DL Darkness Lurking
by Superguy-In-Tights
Summary: The first in the DL series, the same story that was posted before, but that never was up, so here is the real thing. Plz R
1. Repost of original story cause of probs

Hey Guyz, it turns out that I wont be able to update until saturday or sunday.   
  
But you never know. Please read and review!! 


	2. In The Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, and will not be making any profit from this story  
  
Darkness Lurking  
  
By  
  
Super_Guy_In_Tights  
  
INTRO  
  
From the author who brought you Dreams, and the unfortunately cut short project of   
  
Dreams 2, a new story comes. One filled with murder, intrigue, battles of wits and   
  
Beyblades. One boy, one school, together defying odds at a dangerously fast pace, must uncover   
  
his history, or die trying. This is Darkness Lurking 


	3. The Message

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, and will not be making any profit from this story  
  
Darkness Lurking  
  
By  
  
Super_Guy_In_Tights  
  
((Hey, plz read all the way through, even though this chapter might be kinda boring, don't judge it by it's   
  
beginning. PLz R&R))  
  
CHAPTER 1 - The Message  
  
In the small town of Cheltenham,just outside of Vancouver, there lived a family named Smith. In this family,   
  
which consisted of the husband, Hugh, the wife, Helen, and their particularly rude son Andy, were not a happy   
  
and friendly bunch. But there was another member of the family. His name was Peter Shearer, a relative who's   
  
parents had died while researching Beyblade History in Japan. Or, at least that's what they told him.  
  
  
  
To say the least, the Smith's hated Beyblading as much as they loved jelly filled donuts, which  
  
was quite a bit. The whole family was obese, eating fatty foods almost every night. Despite the  
  
food conditions, Peter maintained a rather skinny figure because the Smith's always ate much more than needed,   
  
leaving little left for him. The Smith's odd and misshapen house, which seemed to be painted in one color,   
  
a throw-up green, which had ran out and one side and the back of the house had been painted in red. Hugh was   
  
very proud of this house as he had helped build it. Partly explaining the odd shapen and dead lawn, and condition   
  
of the actual living area. The house was only built to accommodate three people, so Peter slept in the cold and damp basement.  
  
  
  
But, Peter was ok with it because of one thing. At night, when he came home from school or  
  
the park, he would smuggle in a freshly built Beyblade, customized by his friend Alec. Since the  
  
door of the basement was thick and most sounds and things moving down there could not be  
  
heard by the rest of the house, Peter practiced late into the night. Launching his Beyblade over  
  
and over again.  
  
  
  
Although content for a short while with practicing in the basement, Peter craved more. He  
  
craved tournaments in other countries. Seeing new techniques and approaches to what seemed to  
  
be a simple sport.  
  
***  
  
  
  
"HELEN!" Hugh screamed, careening through the house, his rolls of fat jiggling like a large tub full   
  
of Jell-O. "HELEN! Where in blue blazes are you, woman?!"  
  
  
  
A small voice squeaked from the kitchen, "Im-Im-Im in here dear." Helen called back to her  
  
husband.  
  
  
  
Hugh's face turned from angry to loving as he slowly and as gracefully, as a cow being pulled  
  
along to it's execution, sauntered over to his wife.  
  
  
  
Helen was very fat, but small as well. Come to think of it, she had always reminded Peter of an overly   
  
stuffed Chinchilla. This was ironic as her little helpers,or, in other words, her 15 pet Chinchillas, which   
  
were always sneaking around the house. In fact, Peter had awoken many a night with the fuzzy feeling of a  
  
Chinchilla dropping some poop onto his forehead. These little creatures also left little gifts around the   
  
house, which Hugh always objected to because he had slipped on many such droppings several times. Always   
  
voicing his distast with the animals, and screaming an shouting about how Helen was obsessed and needed   
  
to see a doctor about her Chinchilla like figure.  
  
Helen was the best cook in the house, although her 'culinary works of art' were rarely seen. This   
  
was moslty because she had a habit of nibbling on everything and anything that was food. One incident after   
  
another occured where Helen had been cooking Lemon and Lime Pie. When the dish had finally been put on the   
  
table, half of it was already missing. She claimed that the Chinchilla had ate it, and Peter agreed. A   
  
Chinchilla had devoured the pie. But, it wasn't one of her pets, it was, of course, Helen herself, who was   
  
boasting a new mask of lemon curd and crumbs. This had infuriated Hugh, who was eagerly awaiting the pie's   
  
delivery. Yelling tim and time again about how much he hated her nibbling habit, and those goddamned Chinchilla's   
  
of her's, who also had taken their fair share of the pie.  
  
  
  
"Dearest, something odd came into the mail today." He said with a fake smile.  
  
  
  
"Oh, what is it?" Helen replied inquisitively.  
  
  
  
"Well," Hugh said, his face getting red with anger, "It's for Peter. From the....." Hugh began  
  
to read the sender's address. " It's from the 'Dickinson's School for Young and Gifted...." He  
  
paused before continuing, "BEYBLADERS!!!" He shouted with anger.  
  
  
  
Helen muttered a little 'Oh my!', but nothing could be heard over Hugh's loud voice.  
  
  
  
"Now, I wonder!" Hugh continued, "Why would our little pest be getting a letter from a  
  
school for...." He pause again, the anger swelling inside him, "BEYBLADERS!?" Hugh shouted  
  
again.  
  
  
  
"Well-well-well, dear, I frankly don't know." replied Helen, a little frightened by her  
  
husband's growing anger.  
  
  
  
"BOY!!" Hugh shouted at last.  
  
  
  
Hugh galloped as fast as he could to the basement door and began pounding on it with such  
  
force that it began to break under his strength.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Peter's head turned as he heard all the noise and commotion from the kitchen. He caught parts  
  
of the conversation. Mostly, he heard the word Beyblade repeated over and over.  
  
'Have they found out about me practicing?' Peter wondered.  
  
But at that moment he heard the loud yell of "BOY!" and the banging at the door.  
  
"Oh crap!" Peter said, shuffling all the Beyblading things into his chest and locking it.  
  
Just then, Andy came leaping, or rather flopping down the creaky upper floor stairs at a  
  
breakneck speed, that is to say the rate of the noise of the steps on the stairs were  
  
'........thump............thump'  
  
"Oy, when did these stairs get so big." Andy said with a huff of breath  
  
He finally made it down the stairs and yelped as he saw his father pounding on the great thick  
  
door.  
  
"Daddy," Andy said with little squeak, "Your breaking the door!"  
  
"Shuttup Andy! Go play with that Video-Station 7 thingy of yours!"  
  
"It's called a Playstation 2 dad. Anyway daddy, I wanna see Peter get punished." Andy said in a   
  
small voice.  
  
"Honey, best you do what your father asks of you. He's quite angry." Helen said over Hugh's  
  
shouts.  
  
"Daddy, why is Peter in trou-.."  
  
Andy was cut off by his father. "Son, if you don't go upstairs right now," Hugh said the next  
  
few words with great emphasis on each one of  
  
them,"THERE..WILL...BE..NO..MORE..DONUTS!!"  
  
Andy gave a small 'You can't do that!' but went upstairs all the same.Mr. Smith finally broke   
  
the door down, and stood at the top of the stairs, the light shining behind him, creating a great looming Silhouette.  
  
Every once and a while, as he descended the stairs, he would speak part of the sentence that  
  
Peter knew he would belt out at him again as soon as he reached the bottom.  
  
"Boy," He said giving off an angry and evil smile as he continued walking down the stairs,  
  
continuing to speak, "There was something that came," He paused reaching a especially creaky  
  
and steep part of the steps. "There was something that came in the mail today." Hugh said,  
  
finishing his sentence and reaching the bottom of the steps.  
  
"Was-was-was it for m-m-m-me?" Peter stammered.  
  
"Of course it was boy! Why the hell else would I be telling you?" Mr. Smith said, his anger  
  
rising again.  
  
"S-s-s-sorry." Came Peter's stammered reply, "I j-just couldn't be sure."  
  
"Well, next time use your thick head you dim-witted..." Hugh was cut off.  
  
"Hugh! That is quite enough, now just give the boy his letter and leave him alone.  
  
Mr. Smith's head swivelled around, giving a puzzled look to his wife.  
  
"I am just so sick of you pestering and bullying him all the time." She continued. Hugh gave  
  
her a look that seemed to read 'but what about all those times that....' "I know I liked it when  
  
you would treat him horribly at the start, but I have grown out of that. Give him his letter, and if  
  
he should like to go to that school, then he is going! AND THAT IS THAT!" She finished,  
  
yelling at the last bit because it seemed that Mr. Smith was about to yell again.  
  
Peter was just as stunned as the rest. Yes, even Andy had been listening from the bottom step  
  
on the stairs. A million things were running through his mind, they swirled around and around  
  
like a giant whirlpool.   
  
'Why would Aunt Helen be protecting me? And what school would she mean?' Peter thought,  
  
but just as he thought those same things, an idea gelled and formed in his mind. Had she meant a  
  
Beyblade school? It was too weird of a though, and he shook it free from his head.  
  
"Fine." Mr. Smith said with a huff.  
  
He shoved the slightly worn and a little torn letter into Peter's hands and walked loudly back  
  
up the steps, muttering little curses and words of distaste.  
  
After the whole family had vacated the basement, Peter tore open the letter eagerly. He read  
  
the letter over twice. It read:  
  
Dear Mr. Shearer,  
  
It has been taken to our attention that you have great potential as a Beyblader. We at the  
  
Dickinson's School for The Young and Gifted Beybladers wish that you would attend our new  
  
school for, as the title implies, Beybladers from around the world. More information will be  
  
given to you on our own train. In this envelope, you will find the ticket. There will be two trains  
  
leaving at different times on the said date. Please, we hope that you do not miss a train, and are  
  
eagerly waiting your arrival at our school.  
  
Sincerely, Kai, Headmaster At 'The Dickinson's School For The Young and Gifted Beybladers'  
  
(( Hey guyz. Sry that this chapter was a bit boring, but it'll get better. I promise. Plz review,   
  
I need all the feedback that I can get)) 


	4. The First Victim

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, and will not be making any profit from this story  
  
Darkness Lurking  
  
By  
  
Super_Guy_In_Tights  
  
((Here is the second chapter for those who finished the first without leaving it behind   
  
for others. :), anyway, I tried to add a little action for you. Although it is short,   
  
expect some beyblade battles next chappy))  
  
CHAPTER 2 - The First Victim  
  
"ALRIGHT!!" Cried Peter, just having finished the lettter. "This.....This...This   
  
is ubelievable!"  
  
"Keep it down, BOY!" Screamed Hugh from the top of the stairs.  
  
'The tickets,' Peter thought, he tore the rest of the envelope open to find two   
  
different tickets. They read:  
  
Shearer, Peter  
  
Dickinson Experess  
  
10:00 AM from Centrel Vancouver Train Station  
  
To Florence, Oregon  
  
Shearer, Peter  
  
Dickinson Cruise Line #557  
  
8:00 PM from Florence, Oregon  
  
To Dickinson Island  
  
Peter stuff them into his pocket. He checked his watch. It read '9:30'  
  
"Oh crud!" Peter exclaimed, "I only have 30 minutes to get to the station!"  
  
Peter bounded from his bed to his trunk packing up things as fast as he could. He   
  
muttered what he was putting in as he did it.  
  
"Beyblade, launcher, shirt, shirt, shirt, pants, pants, pants...." Peter paused, then he   
  
reached under his bed and pulled out his only good shirt. This really wasn't wearable as it had   
  
been given to him as a baby, and Peter couldn't wear it now being 14. The picture on the front showed a   
  
great spirit erupting from a great yellow blade. He carefully lowered this little good luck charm into   
  
his trunk.  
  
Peter then lifted his suitcase and ran up the stairs, stepping through the large hole in which Uncle  
  
Hugh had pounded into the door. He ran into the kitchen and found Helen nibbling on a cookie.  
  
"Um, Aunt Helen, could you possibly.." Peter paused, knowing it was no good as soon as the words   
  
were uttered from his mouth, "Could you possibly call me a taxi?"  
  
"Of course not!" She said back, appualed. "If you should like to visit that school then do so on your   
  
own time, don't waste mine."  
  
"Fine!" Peter said in a fit. He stormed out of the kitchen, 'borrowing' some money from his Aunt's purse   
  
for the taxi. He slammed the door behind him. He ran as fast as he could to the busiest street around the neighborhood   
  
which was a ten minute walk normally, but at a run you could probably reach it in five. Peter was counting   
  
on this factor as he ran.  
  
Finally, as he reached the street, he called a taxi, threw his trunk in the back and was off. It   
  
took about fifteen minutes to get to the train station, but he told the driver to hurry, assuring him   
  
that he would be paid extra if he did. That was all the the taxi man needed to know, and he sped off,   
  
swerving left and right through traffic as only a taxi driver could.  
  
Then something happened. The taxi driver lurched forward, a fresh wound was seen bleeding through   
  
the hole in the seat. Peter threw up as he saw straight through the gaping hole in the man's chest and   
  
out the window.  
  
Breathing hard and feeling sicker than ever, just getting over the initial shock of the taxi driver's untimely   
  
death he climbed into the front seat, opened the door, and through the dead taxi driver out.  
  
"What in the world?" He wondered outloud, "Why would someone just kill a taxi driver......unless he   
  
or she was....." Peter paused, thinking that the idea was too crazy, "Unless the person was after me!"  
  
'Well...' Peter thought, 'I guess it's my turn to learn how to drive.'  
  
With that, Peter shoved the accelerator down hard. The car zoomed forward. Peter held his breath   
  
with every swerve and turn. He only had ten minutes to get there and board the train. He could hear   
  
the faint noise of police sirenes in the background.  
  
"Damnit!" Peter yelled, slamming his fist on the dashboard. He knew that he couldn't outrun two cops.  
  
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the turn for the train station. He did one   
  
final daring swerve, and proceeded to run straight into one of the cop's Fords. He leapt out and ran as   
  
fast as he could into the train station. The policeman had climbed out of the ruined car and was   
  
chasing after him.  
  
Peter turned a corner and ran straight into a tall man with silvery blue hair. So did the cop.   
  
The tall man gave a small wave of his hand, and the cop opened his mouth stupidly, about to speak.  
  
"Uh, what happened?" He said in a heavy Texan accent.  
  
"You ran into this boy just a minute ago." The tall man replied calmy.  
  
"I did? A shucks, sorry kid." The policeman began to walk off, speaking to himself, " I musta   
  
been doing something...."  
  
"Uh.....what just happened?" Peter said. Then remembering his manners, he added "Sir."  
  
"I was alerted of your troubles with the police force, and promptly did a little trick." He   
  
said. Seeing Peter's puzzled look, he added "You know, played with is mind a little."  
  
"Um, ok. Look, I would like to chat and all, but I gotta be on this train in like two min-" Peter was   
  
interrupted befor he could finish.  
  
"I know about your train." The tall man replied. Held out his hand. "Hello, I'm Kai, the headmaster at   
  
Dickinson's."  
  
Peter took the first proper look at his 'rescuer'. "Hey, aren't you that guy from the Bey-" He was   
  
interrupted by Kai again.  
  
"The Blade Breakers? Yeah, I was." He gave a little smile, "Don't mention that again. Listen, we   
  
better be going now or we'll miss the train. You can ride with me and a couple of other kids. I'll tell   
  
you personally about everything that just happened." Kai finished, adding the last sentence rather   
  
mysteriously as Peter found it hard to understand.  
  
"Don't be shy, come on, let's go."  
  
Peter took Kai's hand and was hauled up. They both started out in the direction of the train.  
  
((Well, there it is. Hope you liked it :). The next chappy will be here soon. Just as soon as I get   
  
another chance to upload. Plz R&R, I NEED feedback)) 


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